


Moth to a Flame: Chapter Ten

by gemini_cole



Series: HenryxPoppy [12]
Category: British Actor RPF, Henry Cavill - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-16 20:45:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3502187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gemini_cole/pseuds/gemini_cole





	Moth to a Flame: Chapter Ten

Moth to a Flame: Chapter Ten

 

 

                        “Nice of you to _finally_ show up.” Henry sneered as he stepped aside, intent on fleeing the scene as quickly as possible. Before he could take another step, Ben’s hand snaked out, grabbing his arm, stopping him.

            “You’ll want to stay for this too, mate.”

            Henry stopped, suddenly noticing the slight man standing just behind Benedict. Glaring back at Benedict, Henry growled, “What’s this got to do with me?”

            At that the man spoke up, replying, “I’ll need to talk to you after I’m finished in there. You’ll understand why in a moment.” Before Henry could reply, the soft ding of the elevator chimed, and out stepped Gary and Charlie, followed by “the suits.”

            Henry glared at them. “If you’re here to make either of us come back to work, the answer is no.”

            Charlie rolled his eyes. “We do have some humanity left, Henry, cut us a break. “Besides,” he said, motioning to the man in the suit, “he called us down here.”

As they talked, Ben cautiously peeked inside the room, taking in the scene with a glance. Unaware of the commotion out in the hall, Poppy watched him with idle curiosity. After a moment he whispered, “May I come in? I have someone with me.”

Poppy sighed. “Ben, I really don’t think now is the time for visitors, I just don’t feel up to it. Let’s wait until Hannah has woken up, okay?” Before she could say anything further, the two men stepped into the room. Poppy sat up straight in her chair as she took in his appearance. Everything about him screamed “official.”

“Poppy, this is Detective Michael Oberlin with Scotland Yard. He needs to speak to you, regarding all these..incidents that have happened lately.”

Poppy stood, moving to shake the detective’s hand as she glanced curiously at Ben and the others who now stood hovering in the doorway. “Incidents?” she parroted stupidly. Mentally chastising herself for sounding so ridiculous, she began again. “You mean the accident?”

Detective Oberlin cleared his throat. Looking to Ben, who nodded his head in assent. “Actually Miss, we believe the accident that landed your sister in the hospital is directly connected to the incident from a few weeks ago. Mr. Cumberbatch contacted us, believing that you had possibly somehow been drugged at a club, is this correct?”

Poppy stared at Ben, aghast. “You knew? Before anyone said anything, you knew?”

Ben shrugged uncomfortably. “Darling, I play a detective, for Christ’s sake. I had my suspicions. I pocketed one of the glasses before I left and took it home with me. I had one of the tech supervisors from the show take it to his lab buddies.”

Poppy stalked over to the window. Switching the curtain aside, she muttered, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me this. What else haven’t you told me?”

Before Ben could respond, the detective cleared his throat meaningfully. “Right.” Ben muttered. “I’ll just be in the hall.” He ushered the gathered crowd out as he closed the door behind him.

            Henry stared incredulously at Ben for several seconds as they both stood in front of the closed door before finally grumbling, “Out with it, Cumberbatch. What’s this all about? What’s this got to do with any of us?” He gestured to the gathered crowd.

Ben shoved his hand through his hair as he shifted his weight from foot to foot before finally replying, “I’m not sure how much I’m supposed to tell you. Or how much they,” he motioned to the ever-present lawyers “already know. I should probably just let the detective tell you.” With that he moved toward the elevators.

Henry reached out and grabbed Ben’s hand just before it hit the down button, as he hissed, “ _You_ are the one who brought him here. So _you_ tell us. Now!”

Ben glared balefully at Henry as he shook himself free from his grasp. “Me? You’ve got that all wrong, mate. _You_ are the reason this all happened!”

“Me? How in the hell is this my fault?”

Ben stared at him in disbelief. “You really don’t get it, do you? Jessica. She’s the one behind all of it. _All_ of this. That night at the club? That was Jessica, paying off a bartender. She spiked all of Poppy’s drinks with MDMA.  And the leaked paparazzi pictures? With those horrible stories? Those were courtesy of her reporter buddy. How does it feel having your live become a play, mate? And now this accident, that was courtesy of one of the crew that she blackmailed. All through other people though, so we can’t nail her for any of it. There was a hint of a whisper and she went to “rehab.” So congratulations. All of this is her doing. And since you brought Jessica into our lives, you brought this into Poppy’s life, not me.”

Henry gaped at him as all the pieces started falling into place. Grasping at straws he finally shot back, “Yeah, well. At least I was here for her. Where were you? Off playing detective?”

Ben leaned up against the wall and regarded him coolly. “At least I did something helpful. What did you do?”

Henry loomed over him, clenching and unclenching the fist of his good arm. He itched to take this ass down a notch or two. “What did I do? Besides try to save her sister’s life? I supported her. Support. Do you even _know_ what that is? I brought her food and clothes, made her take a shower, tried to get her to get some sleep, because she was so wrapped up in her sister that she wasn’t even thinking of herself. Do you honestly think she gives a fuck right now about who did it? When her sister might be in there _dying_? Why weren’t you here doing all that? Why weren’t you holding her when she cried, huh?”

Ben shoved Henry out of his way. “That’s not who I am. I’m not the touchy-feely sort. I get things done. Poppy knows that about me. She knew what she was getting into.”

“I doubt she thought your lack of compassion would carry this far. Why she stays with you, I don’t know.”

Ben stalked to the elevator. As the doors opened he replied, “Maybe I’m willing to offer her the stability you never were. Think about that one.”

Henry’s hand shot out, holding the elevator door open as he replied, “Think about it? While you leave, _again_? Don’t you even care that she might need you right now?”

Ben shrugged. “She’s stronger than she looks. She’ll be fine. I’ve my mobile on me if she or the detective needs anything. Oh and one more thing: You might think you’re being clever, with all this “support”, but I see it for what it is. Don’t even think about it, Cavill.”

Henry’s arm shot out, connecting cleanly with Ben’s face. The satisfying crunch of bone on bone outweighed the burn of torn stiches he felt in using his injured arm. “Support this, _mate,”_ he spat out as he stepped back just in time for the elevator door to close. The last thing he saw was blood gushing from Benedict’s presumably broken nose.

 

* * *

 

Later that evening, Henry walked into the kitchen of his flat. Reaching the refrigerator, he grabbed the first thing he found in the freezer compartment, which happened to be a long forgotten bag of frozen waffles. Gingerly placing it against the new stitches in his right side, he clamped it between his arm and his ribs as he used his free hand to reach for a fist of ice cubes. Tumbling them into a glass he reached into a side cabinet for the scotch. He had just poured himself a healthy glass when there was a knock on the door. Grabbing his glass, he walked over, peering through the peephole, though he had a feeling he knew who would be on the other side.

Poppy stood there, her arms wrapped around herself with her back to the door as she took in her surroundings. She’d never actually been to Henry’s flat, in the past he has somehow always ended up at hers instead. Hearing the lock disengage, she spun around to see Henry standing in the doorway, his expression neutral. The seconds seemed to drag interminably as she took in the glass in his hand and second-guessed herself. Finally Henry broke the silence, asking, “You coming in, or just going to stand guard all night? Because I think there are better things you could be doing with your time.”

Decision made, Poppy moved past him into the small foyer as she replied, “I heard you broke Ben’s nose. I thought I’d come see how the other guy is.”

Henry held up the freezer bag as he countered, “Nothing a few new stitches couldn’t fix. Shouldn’t you be at the hospital? How’s Hannah? Any change?”

Poppy shook her head as her eyes filled with tears. “The doctors changed the meds to bring her out of the coma and she hasn’t had any seizures, which is good. But she hasn’t woken up yet either, which obviously isn’t. The doctors say not to worry, because she was, _is_ young and healthy. But I can’t stop worrying, Henry!”

“Why aren’t you there now?”

“Natalie came by and offered to sit with her. Practically forced me out the door. Said I needed to breathe something other than hospital air for a change.”

“I see.”

Poppy wiped her tears away quickly as she looked him over curiously. “I don’t see any fresh bruises.”

Henry shrugged. “He didn’t really have a chance to respond.”

Poppy sighed. As she inched infinitesimally closer, she grazed the edge of his shirt with her fingertips, asking, “May I?”

Henry nodded his assent as she began unbuttoning his shirt cautiously. Sliding it away from his body, she sucked in a breath quietly as she stepped around him, taking in the ugly purple and yellow bruises that covered the right side of his body, from his torso along his right flank, wrapping around to his back. Smoothing her fingertips gently over the tape that held the gauze over his new stitches, she leaned in, brushing her lips against his shoulder as she murmured, “I am so sorry, Henry.”

Henry tried not to show the shock he felt at the touch of her lips on his skin. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I think I do.”

Gruffly Henry replied, “I know you better than this. I doubt that you believe that. Look at me. Why are you really here, Poppy?”

She raised her eyes to meet his. They gleamed with unshed tears as she whispered thickly, “I can’t do this, Henry. It’s too much. It’s just too much. I’m so tired of feeling this way. And I know I should be strong, but I’m so scared, Henry. I’m scared of what will happen next. I’m scared of being alone. I feel like such a failure. I’ve failed the only person in the world who loved me. So I need you to please help me. Help me to not feel this way, if only for a little bit. I’m begging you. _Please_.” She went on tiptoe, pressing feverish kisses along his jawline, down to his chest, all over as her hands buried themselves in his hair, holding on for dear life.

Henry felt her heart hammering against his chest as the last of his resistance crumbled. His uninjured arm snaked around her waist as he turned his head slightly, capturing her lips with his own. He met her frenzied haste with a steady, confident pace that soon had her melting against him. Stopping briefly he murmured, “wrap your legs around my waist, Princess. I’m taking you to bed.” His good arm felt like a vice, pressing her even closer as her as he tossed the long since-forgotten freezer bag in the general direction of the kitchen. As he made his way down the hallway to his bedroom, he vowed not to think of the repercussions this night could hold.

 

 

 

 

           

 


End file.
